


Fuck Me Like This Could Be the Last Time

by orphan_account



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Oral Sex, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7421218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am not pinkie swearing whilst lying in bed with you naked. That's just weird."</p>
<p>Thomas and his family are moving to the other side of the country, and neither he nor Newt want to spend their last night together wallowing in their heartache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck Me Like This Could Be the Last Time

Lying in bed with Newt was possibly the best feeling to Thomas, his arms wrapped around the blond's slim frame whilst leaving lazy, sleepy kisses atop his forehead. Newt was warm, and despite his usual mature and independent attitude he could be quite clingy, making Thomas only want to hold him closer. There were countless nights where the two would find themselves wrapped up in each other, Newt kissing and biting and sucking on Thomas' neck, intentionally leaving bruises that they both knew their friends would notice the next day, whilst Thomas' hands explored his body, nails gently grazing against soft skin.

Unfortunately, those nights had quickly come to an end. Newt didn't know that this would be their last night together, and Thomas hated himself for putting off telling him for so long. Every time he tried, and he would look at Newt with that innocent, unknowing smile, he would freeze completely, and the first stupid thing he could think of would come pouring out of his mouth. He knew Newt didn't care, though. Newt would laugh or call him an idiot and think nothing of it, and Thomas would curse himself for being such a coward. Thomas couldn't tell him; he couldn't rob him of that sweet smile.

But it wouldn't matter anymore come tomorrow.

Thomas threaded his fingers through Newt's hair, knowing how much the blond liked it, and smiled at the earned hum of approval. He knew he had to tell him tonight, but he couldn't help but put it off for a little bit longer. Hurting Newt was the last thing he wanted to do, though deep down Thomas knew that neglecting the truth was only going to make him feel worse. If Newt was going to get mad at him, shout at him or even break up with him, Thomas wouldn't blame him; he couldn't blame him. It would be his own fault for lying for so long.

“You're quiet.” The sound of Newt's voice breaks Thomas out of his trance. When he looked down at him, the blond was no longer in his relaxed half-sleep state and was staring back at him. There was a concerned look on his face, and that was when Thomas realized that Newt knew something was bothering him. “What's the matter?”

There was a flicker of panic inside of Thomas' chest. Of course he knew he had to come clean to his boyfriend, but once again his mouth betrayed him. “It's nothing,” he lied, wanting to smack himself for it. “I'm just tired, that's all.”

Newt didn't look convinced. He sat up in the bed and Thomas did the same, knowing the blond far too well to know that he wasn't going to drop the subject. Newt was persistent, and though it could be quite frustrating at times it was one of the many things Thomas loved about him. He was stubborn, yes, but he cared so much for others that it was hard to be annoyed with him for long. “You're a shitty liar, Tommy,” Newt said, though there wasn't a trace of anger in his voice. Only concern. “Come on. You must know you can talk to me about anything by now, yeah?”

It seemed impossible to lie to Newt. He could always see through Thomas' lies as if he were actually reading his mind. He could read him like a book, and his gentle, soft-spoken tone always managed to pull the truth out of him without fail. With a heavy sigh, Thomas knew he couldn't keep it from him any longer. If there was a time to be honest, even if it meant hurting the person he loved most, it was now.

“My family's moving to California,” he said softly. “We're leaving tomorrow morning.”

Thomas avoided all eye contact with Newt, but he didn't have to look to know that Newt was staring at him as if his entire world had come crumbling down. The blond had fallen into a stunned silence, and when Thomas did eventually look at him, his heart broke. He had never seen Newt look so shocked, his jaw wide open in disbelief, but it didn't last for long. Within a matter of seconds Newt had gone through a variety of expressions—confusion, disappointment—until it finally settled on anger, something Thomas had been fearing all night.

“You...” Newt paused for a moment, clearly trying his best to come up with the right words. He wasn't one for yelling, but it was plain for Thomas to see that the blond was close to losing his composure. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the only thing to come out of Newt's mouth was, “What?”

“Please don't be mad at me,” Thomas immediately replied, trying not to sound desperate. “I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_. I really am. I wanted to tell you, but I—”

“Then why didn't you?” Newt interrupted. He sounded furious, and Thomas wanted crawl under a rock. “What, you didn't think it was important for me to know something like that? You didn't think I'd want to know my boyfriend was moving to other side of the fucking _country_? Why didn't you say anything!”

Thomas flinched at the sudden outburst. He couldn't think of an excuse, because there was none. Newt was off the bed and pacing around the room in seconds, raking his fingers through and tugging at his hair, completely frustrated. As much as Thomas wanted to take him into his arms, he couldn't; as much as he wanted to hold him and kiss him, it wouldn't make the problem go away. He had been lying for weeks, saying that his parents were renovating the house to keep Newt away when in reality they were packing everything up and preparing for a long drive from Vermont to California. Thomas had dug himself a grave, and there was no way out of it.

There was a heavy silence between them for several minutes, the only sound being the creaking floorboards from Newt's pacing. Thomas eventually climbed off of the bed and slowly made his way over to his boyfriend. “I'm sorry,” he said, almost in a whisper. Newt's had stopped pacing and his back was to him, and in a weak sliver of hope that maybe he had calmed down the smallest bit Thomas reached out to him, wrapping his arms around him. “I'm sorry,” he said again. “I really am. I was just scared of what you'd say.”

“I would have understood.” Newt said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but Thomas could hear the hurt in his voice. He should have known that if he had been honest with Newt from the get-go the blond wouldn't have been so upset. He really would have understood and, deep down, Thomas knew it, yet he still chose to lie. Newt was everything to him, and now he was going to lose him.

Newt pulled away from Thomas' grasp and turned to face him. There was a small, sad smile on his lips, one Thomas wanted to kiss away. His eyes looked glassy, as if he were on the verge of tears, and it broke Thomas' heart. Newt rarely cried, and knowing that he was the one who had brought this beautiful boy to tears made him feel sick. “So, this is it, then?” Newt asked, his tone of voice meek. “This is the last night we can be together.”

It was more of a statement than a question, and Thomas didn't know what to say in response. Hearing the truth from Newt made it feel more real, as if this really was going to be the last time they'll ever see each other. It felt like the blond had given up; they were doomed to be separated forever, though Thomas knew that was ridiculous, and he was sure Newt knew it, too. They could still text one another and chat on the phone; they could video chat through Skype and they both used Facebook. It wasn't like they were being separated by time or dimensions; just distance, but that wasn't really the point.

This would be the last time in a long time they could be together. This would be the last time in a long time they could touch and hold one another; the last time they could simply enjoy each others company. Thomas would no longer catch Newt in the hallway between classes and complain to him about how awful their math teacher, Janson, was. He could no longer convince the blond to skip class with him and sneak into the boy's locker room, where they could be alone for at least a little while. He could no longer lie in bed with him and talk about everything and anything at the same time, kissing him and holding him as if they were the last two people on earth.

No.

Thomas didn't want their last night together to be wasted reminiscing with heavy hearts about all the times they spent together. He didn't want his last moments with Newt to be spent crying, Thomas wishing they could just run away together despite knowing how childish it sounded. Their last night together should be memorable, should give them hope that this won't, in fact, be their last night, and Thomas was going to make it so.

Before he could put too much thought into it, Thomas took the few steps between them and pressed his lips against Newt's. The kiss was soft and sweet, and though Thomas could feel Newt's body tense up for a moment it relaxed quickly, melting into the affection. Thomas' arms instinctively wrapped around the blond's torso, pulling him closer, and suddenly the kiss is anything but innocent. He breaks away only for a second to pull on Newt's lower lip and slip his tongue inside the blond's mouth.

The kiss becomes sloppy with their tongues battling for dominance but is not devoid of passion. They pulled away for a moment, both out of breath, but Newt didn't wait long to attach his lips to Thomas' neck; kissing, biting, and sucking and doing everything he knew had an effect on him. Thomas couldn't help but moan. A fire was building in his lower belly; a flicker of desire that made him crave more. “Newt,” he sighed as the blond licked the bruise he had left and moved to leave a trail of kisses along Thomas' jawline.

“Bed. Now.”

It was a demand Thomas craved to hear come out of Newt's mouth, and he had no qualms with obeying. They crawled onto the bed, Newt on top of Thomas, and Newt didn't waste any time in attacking Thomas' neck again. The blond was practically merciless with his claiming, always choosing to leave marks in noticeable places (and occasionally others in not-so noticeable places), but Thomas didn't mind; he never did. He belonged to Newt, and he had no problem with letting people know it.

Just as Newt's teeth grazed his collar bone, Thomas felt a hand slip into his boxers, inching toward his already hard cock, making him gasp. Honestly, Newt was never this bold when it came to fooling around. Thomas wouldn't describe him as shy (or even all that innocent), but he was certainly submissive, allowing Thomas to do whatever he pleased to him, so seeing him take some initiative was actually quite the turn-on. With an instinctive buck of his hips, Thomas let out another moan as Newt took his cock into his hand and slowly started to pump. “Oh, fuck...”

Newt's pace was agonizingly slow, and Thomas could feel the smirk on his lips as he continued kissing and nibbling on his neck. Whenever he decided to play the dominant, Newt was almost cruel. He loved taking his sweet, sweet time with him, and even though Thomas would beg it seemed that he would only go slower until he had him panting and shaking. It was hot. “You like that?” Newt asked, voice lower and huskier than usual, which practically drove Thomas _insane_.

“Oh, yeah.” As Newt ran his thumb over the tip of Thomas' cock, it was amazing that Thomas was even able to get those two simple words out. His breathing had gotten heavy and were mostly moans, and he had already begun to sweat. It wouldn't be too long now before he was driven completely over the edge. “Keep it up, babe.”

And then it stopped.

Everything had stopped; the kissing, the biting, everything. Newt took his hand out of Thomas' boxers, leaving him both confused and disappointed. “W-Why'd you stop?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows. He looked at Newt, but he didn't look back. Instead, the blond was licking his lips and playing with the waistband of Thomas' briefs. Seeing how completely flushed he was and the hint of lust in Newt's eyes, it didn't take long for him to realize what he wanted. The disappointment had instantly dissolved and was replaced with something else: anticipation.

It felt like a century had gone by when Newt finally stopped playing with the waistband and decided to pull on it instead. Thomas lifted his legs to help him remove the unwanted garment and it was tossed away carelessly, never to be thought of again until morning. They're quiet for a moment, and Newt is looking back and forth between Thomas' eyes and his cock as if asking for confirmation. Thomas swallows, but since he couldn't quite get the words out he simply nodded, and it was all Newt needed.

Newt licked the tip of Thomas' cock before taking it into his mouth, and thank god his parent's weren't home because Thomas was sure the filthy moan he had just let out would have gotten them caught in the matter of seconds. Thomas lied back down, his head thrown back as he tries to keep himself under control. He threads his fingers through Newt's feathery locks and pulls hard, knowing it would get a rise out of the blond and making him suck harder. “Oh!” Thomas moans as Newt puts his tongue to better use, licking the tip before taking him back again and hollowing his cheeks. “Oh, _fuck_ … Yeah, that's it. Lower. _Lower_!”

Unlike Thomas, Newt wanted him to come during a blow job, and Thomas knew he wasn't going to stop until he did. With another guttural moan and another tug of Newt's hair, he finally came undone. He came into the blond's mouth, and though he was afraid of him choking (he was always afraid of him choking) Newt didn't release his cock until he had swallowed everything.

“Holy shit,” Thomas sighed. He was still quite high on ecstasy, but once he managed to get his breathing under control he could talk clearly again. “Why are you so good at that?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” There was a smug grin on Newt's face, making Thomas roll his eyes. Thomas knew he was only teasing him, but that didn't stop him from kissing that smirk off of his face. Thomas wasn't sure if he was leaning back or if Newt was pushing him, but it didn't matter. They wanted more, and they had all night to make up for the time that they were going to lose by the time the sun comes up.

When Newt pulled away for air, Thomas took the opportunity to grab his hips and switch their positions around. Straddling the blond's waist, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, and Newt didn't wait long to do the same. Newt was beautiful, and no matter how many times they had sex Thomas couldn't help but stop for a moment and simply admire him, much to the blond's embarrassment. “Stop staring, Tommy,” Newt demanded.

“Sorry.” He wasn't, though. While he could never get the blond to see it, Thomas thought Newt was stunning, especially when he was covered in hickies and his hair was disheveled from a night of hot sex.

“Would you rather stare at me or blow me?”

“Oh, I'll blow you,” Thomas assured with a grin, leaning into kiss the blond again. “I'll blow you,” his lips brushed against the shell of Newt's ear, “and then I'll fuck you nice and slow, you'll be begging and screaming for more.”

He would never say it aloud, but Newt loved it when Thomas whispered such filthy things into his ear. It was one of his securely hidden turn-ons that only Thomas knew about, and on nights like these he loved to exploit the hell out of it. Newt was usually so composed an in-control of himself; Thomas couldn't help but feel a sense of pride being the one who can reduce the blond to a hot, panting mess.

Thomas brushed his lips along Newt's cheek and started leaving a trail of soft kisses down his neck until he reached his shoulder. He bit down on the soft skin, earning a gasp from the blond, and started to suck. Newt wrapped his arms around his shoulders, as if he needed something to hold onto, and bucked his hips. He was growing impatient, and it only encouraged Thomas to continue his work, licking the bruise he had left and moved on to another patch of bare skin.

“Tommy,” Newt sighed, the slightest hint of annoyance in his tone. “Just get on with it.”

“So impatient.” Thomas could practically feel the blond rolling his eyes, but if he had to be honest Newt's thrusting was making him achingly hard all over again. He grabbed the waistband of Newt's pants and his boxers and pulled them down, and Newt wasted no time in kicking them off. Once satisfied with the numerous bites and bruises he had left along the blond's neck and collarbone, he started leaving a trail of wet, lazy kisses down his chest, his stomach, occasionally nipping at the skin all the way down to his cock until he finally took it into his mouth, resulting in a harsh moan from the blond.

Newt's hands immediately grabbed Thomas' hair and start pulling. His moans were loud and obscene, but Thomas knew that they would only get louder as the night progressed. He licked and sucked, hollowing his cheeks and relishing in every little noise that escaped the blond's mouth. “Oh, Tommy,” Newt moaned, his back arching. “Oh, yes. Almost there. Oh...”

Thomas wasn't surprised by Newt's annoyed groan when he pulled off, licking his lips with a smug grin of his own. With a few more sucks, he probably could have driven Newt over the edge, but he loved watching the other boy squirm. He loved hearing the blond pleading to be touched, begging to come. Watching him unravel, blinded by lust, was possibly the hottest thing to Thomas. “Don't worry, babe,” he assured. “I'm not done with you yet.”

As Thomas reached over to the nightstand, knowing that's where Newt kept a small bottle of lube, Newt moved to lazily wrap his legs around Thomas' waist. The anticipation was almost eating him alive, as it did every time despite them having done this countless times before, but perhaps tonight was a bit different. By ten o'clock tomorrow morning, Thomas and his family would be leaving on a drive all the way across the country. Who knew when would be the next time he could see Newt again; the next time he could hug or kiss him again. Yes, tonight was different, and that's why Thomas wanted to make it as good as possible.

Finally finding what he was looking for, Thomas coated two fingers with the lube, trying not to shake the container. (He wasn't nervous, but he didn't have the steadiest of hands.) Setting that to the side, he slowly rubbed his fingers along Newt's entrance, earning him a shaky sigh from the blond, before carefully easing them into him. By the sharp gasp, Thomas knew that it must have stung or at least surprised him a little. He stopped for a moment, mumbling several apologies, but Newt simply shook his head. “Just move, Tommy.”

Still, Thomas didn't want to hurt him, so his movements were slow and attentive. He started with a simple in-and-out motion, wanting Newt to adjust to the feeling, before making scissor movements. Newt's moans were becoming raspy, so Thomas went ahead and inserted a third fingers, his pace quickening only the tiniest bit.

“Oh, _Tommy_.” It sounded like a warning, that Newt was close and if Thomas didn't replace his fingers with his cock soon the blond wouldn't last long. With a few more small thrusts and a little bit of scissoring, Thomas removed his fingers and lined his cock with Newt's entrance.

“Are you ready?” Thomas asked, smirking so smugly it almost hurt.

Newt sighed, somewhat frustrated. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Oh, my god, Tommy. Just _fuck_ me!”

Those last few words came out as a harsh moan as Thomas thrust himself inside of Newt. He paused for a moment to allow the other boy to adjust to the feeling before pulling back and slowly thrusting back in again. As promised, Thomas was going (to try) to take his sweet time with him as the blond had done earlier. His movements were slow, and Newt's attempts to buck his hips to gain more friction were less than successful. Thomas leaned down to silence Newt's dirty moans with sloppy, forceful kisses, but it did little to suppress his own low, guttural ones as the blond started raking his nails down his back.

The flame that had slightly fizzled from the first orgasm had returned in full force. Thomas' thrusts had quickly become erratic from forcing himself to keep a slow pace. “Tommy,” Newt moaned, somewhat louder and more drawn out than before. “Oh, fuck. Faster. Harder. Oh, _Tommy_!”

The way Thomas' name came pouring out of the blond's mouth, dripping with desire, it was hard for him to do anything but quicken his pace. It felt as if he had lost all control, and with a few rolls of his hips he knew he had. The only sounds in the room were a dirty mix of their broken moans, their skin slapping together, and the creaking mattress. After leaving several scratches down Thomas' back, Newt's hands found themselves threading into his hair and pulling hard. Thomas let out a yell, and it only made him thrust faster.

After a string of obscenities from Newt, begging him to fuck him harder, Thomas paused only for a second to slightly adjust his hips. When he continued, the blond let out harsh cry. He had found the spot, the spot that drove Newt absolutely _mad_ ; the spot that he would spend the rest of the time abusing until Newt came completely undone.

“Oh, Tommy!” Newt cried, his moaning just barely loud enough to cover the sound of the headboard banging hard against the wall. “Oh, fuck. Right there! Oh, yes! Keep doing that! Oh, Tommy… Oh, _Tommy_!”

Once again, Thomas' movements had become erratic. His mind had gone completely blank and was just lost in the pleasure, drowning in the sound of Newt's broken moans. He knew he was riding on the edge of that point, and he was sure Newt was, too, but neither of them wanted to stop. He was practically slamming into the blond now, fucking him into the mattress, and Newt's screaming only drove him further into madness. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” It took a moment or two for Newt to get out any actual words with meaning. “I want to come…”

One last bit of fun. “What do you say?”

“Oh, please, Tommy! _Make_ me come. I wanna come!”

That was all Thomas needed to take Newt's leaking cock into his hand and start pumping. Newt arched his back, and it didn't take many more thrusts and pumps to send both of them over the edge. “Oh, shit… Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, _Newt_!” They hit their orgasms with one last loud moan. Thomas rolled his hips and made a few more lazy thrusts, riding out his high, before pulling out and nearly collapsing on top of the blond.

Their breathing was heavy, mixed in with small, raspy moans, and Thomas wasn't sure how long they stayed lying next to each other like that. A few minutes, maybe, but the (sort of) silence didn't last long as Newt rolled over to curl into Thomas, kissing his neck sweetly. “That was amazing,” he says with a sigh. Another kiss. “So good, babe.”

Thomas wrapped an arm around Newt's waist, pulling him closer. He kissed his forehead, unable to say anything for a moment whilst still catching his breath. Cuddling was probably the best thing after a heated round of sex; their bodies were warm and they could just enjoy each others' relaxed company. The tiny little thought of this being the last time they could do this, however, kept trying to sneak its way in to ruin Thomas' mood, so instead he focused on massaging Newt's probably sore arse (he'll admit he had gotten a little carried away and thus been a little too rough with him) and kissing any part of him he could.

“I won't see you again after tonight, will I?”

Well, so much for staying positive. Thomas didn't have to look at him to know that there was sadness in Newt's eyes, and he wished more than anything that he could take it away. While there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable, he could at least try to make it seem like it wasn't going to be the end of the world. “I can still video chat with you, dumb-ass,” Thomas says with a lame laugh. “It's not like me moving away is going to make Skype disappear.”

“I mean _really_ see you, smart-ass” Newt insisted, giving Thomas' leg a weak kick. “I can't hang out with you. I can't hug you. I can't kiss you. I can't lie in bed and talk about stupid shit with you. I can't—”

“Spray paint Janson's car and fill his desk with live frogs with me?”

“I can't _be_ with you.”

Thomas knew his attempts at making light of the situation were failing. He remembered all the times he spent with Newt even before they started dating only a year ago. ( _Has it really been only one year? It feels like an eternity._ ) He could no longer visit him and help him babysit his little sister. They couldn't get together every Friday night to marathon the original Star Wars trilogy, even though they had probably seen them a thousand times. They couldn't go to that little creek behind Thomas' house to throw rocks in the water and climb the trees just like they had when they were kids.

Worst of all it wasn't even just Newt Thomas could no longer be with; it was everyone, all of his friends from school. Minho. Brenda. Alby. Aris. Teresa. He had no idea when he could actually see them again, hang out with them again, and the realization was almost enough to bring him to tears.

Before he could think too much about it, Thomas pressed his lips to Newt's in a long, gentle kiss. He couldn't believe this would be their last night together, and he couldn't let Newt believe it, either. Distance couldn't separate them forever, and it was that little spark of hope that made the optimistic smile return to Thomas' face. “I'll come back,” he said. “School's almost over with. I'll come back over the summer. I'll come back every summer until we graduate. I'll come back and I'll never leave you again.”

It sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth, like they were little kids again making promises to always be friends and never break apart. Well, they were a bit more than just friends now, and despite how silly it was it managed to put the smile back on Newt's lips, which was all Thomas wanted. “And what makes you think you can make those promises, Tommy?”

“I'll pinkie swear on it if that'll make you feel better.”

Thomas held up his pinkie finger, and this time Newt laughed. He actually _laughed_ , and to this day it was one of the most beautiful sounds Thomas had ever heard. “I am not pinkie swearing whilst lying in bed with you _naked_. That's just weird,” the blond protested. “Besides, aren't we a little old for that?”

“I won't tell if you won't,” Thomas insisted, only feeling a little childish for doing so. pinkie swearing was something they used to do all the time as kids, and they had outgrown it by the time they entered middle school. As a couple of eight year old boys, pinkie swearing was something they did when one of them did something stupid (like taking all of the screws out of their evil teacher's chair and hiding them in a jar of red cabbage) and didn't want the other to tell. When they turned twelve they were going through that humiliating “I'm a big kid now” phase and thought it was for babies. Now they were seventeen and in love, doomed to be separated, so now it felt like it really was what it was supposed to symbolize: a promise. It was something special between them, as if this one tiny little gesture would forever link them (and, yes, Thomas knew how stupid that sounded).

Newt is quiet for a moment, a contemplating look on his face, and once he sighs in obvious defeat he raises his hand and entwines Thomas' pinkie with his own. Despite his protests, the smile on his lips betrayed any embarrassment he pretended to have before. “Fine. You win, but I'm holding you to that promise. You better come back, or I'll go over to California myself and kick your ass.”

“It warms my heart to know how much faith you have in me,” Thomas teased, leaning in for another kiss.

They didn't say much after that, Newt burying his face in Thomas' neck and Thomas rubbing little circles unto the blond's back comfortingly. He was going to miss this. Every night after tonight was going to be spent tossing and turning, aching for Newt's presence, for his touch. He just had to hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could talk his parents into letting him board a plane or a train or whatever as often as he could to see Newt. He knew the cost, and he knew it was selfish, but he didn't care. He loved Newt, and the idea of his life without him in it made his heart ache.

“Please come back,” Newt whispered.

“I'll come back,” Thomas assured him again, kissing the top of his head. “I promise.”

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I have no idea why I wrote this. I'm hilariously out of touch with writing smut (especially gay smut), but I'm still relatively pleased with how this turned out. The ending was probably my favorite part to write. Let me know what you guys think, if you'd like to see more in the future, and feel free to give me constructive criticism.
> 
> Thank you!


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